


Friends With Deficits - You're not my Cas V

by CopperMask (Hard_boiled_candy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angel Vessel Consent Issues (Supernatural), Multi, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 00:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18767185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hard_boiled_candy/pseuds/CopperMask
Summary: In this canon/AU collision, AU Castiel/AU Jimmy Novak are having vessel trouble, and Sam and Rowena come out about their relationship.





	Friends With Deficits - You're not my Cas V

“Jimmy, you in there?” Dean whispered to his sleeping companion. By the glow of the Yoda night light, he knew that shoulder, that perpetual tousle – but who was home?

“No, he isn’t,” Castiel’s voice came, not subtle in its disapproval. “Dean, he figured you’d try to wake him up to talk to him, so he’s taking a break from sleeping.”

“Dude,” Dean said after a pause. “He said sleeping’s all he lives for.”

“In which case, why would you be so rude as to waken him? He has his studies, when he can return his attention to them from his abortive crush on you,” Castiel said. As he was no longer whispering, the disapproval was ringingly angelic in tone. This Castiel had spent less time as a human back in his universe, and it really, really showed.

Dean felt sorry for Jimmy. He tapped Castiel’s shoulder with gentle annoyance and a rounded fist. “I love you, but I sure’s shit wouldn’t want to live in your head; the romance’d be out the door in seconds flat.”

“You love me.”

“I’m positive we had that talk in this universe,” Dean said, puzzled. “And, fuck me for mentioning it, but didn’t we just get angel married?”

“The exact quote –”

“Oh Jesus,” Dean moaned involuntarily.

“– was that you ‘might love me, ‘n’ stuff’,” Castiel said.

There was a long, terrible pause, during which Dean’s compassion for Jimmy ceased, because all of his ‘sorries’ were rushing in to cover his humiliation.

Suck it up kid. “I do love you. Not like I loved my Cas, but you know what I mean. You know a thousand languages and I don’t always say what I mean the most – well – elegant way. Knowing how smart you are makes me squirm sometimes. When we were flying around the galaxy, I felt like a tick on a deer. You tried to cheer me up and then I realized I’d be in Heaven without you and that was a downer all by itself. Then Jimmy showed and things kinda got fucked from there.”

“He was trying to help. He’s constructing a plan to carry me into Heaven.”

“He’s only got one soul and he’s going to sacrifice it to get you into heaven?” Dean yelled in horror.

Castiel heaved a very heavy, human sigh. “Not precisely. He’s trying to put together a – let’s call it a thumb drive.”

“Seriously.”

“It’s the best analogy we could come up with. The plan has three parts, all of which are extremely delicate, but at the same time dangerous and problematic.”

“Sounds like another day in the bunker to me,” Dean said, having calmed down for the explanation.

“There is the package to carry my personality - not my grace, which is detectable - but my personality, and my memories from the last hundred years or so. Also required is the magic to transfer my personality into the package at the time Jimmy dies. Also required is the, er, slot to put it all in.”

“Jimmy’s going to install hardware? In my soul?” Dean asked. “Mmm, no, not without talking to Sam about it.” As he had said, he’d been a clown at this particular rodeo for a very long time. And yes, he only said that to tease Sam about his coulrophobia. He had so few pleasures; that had to be one.

“We wanted to be able to present Sam with the entire plan,” Castiel said smoothly.

Dean made a face. Sam was good for finding holes in plans, that was true. “When did you guys start working on this?”

“In the other universe,” Castiel said. “Jimmy thought it unfair that Dean and I couldn’t be together in Heaven.”

“But Jimmy didn’t have access to your memories in the other universe.”

“I sometimes gave him access when he was bored,” Castiel said. “After all, he was essentially locked in a cupboard. Then he learned to ride along, experience what I saw, without being able to do anything, including speak. That’s the deal. He has all the control, none of the control, or he can watch.”

“Is he watching now?”

“No.” The tone was firm and final. “We’ve had to have a talk about it. Normally he rides along, but I think, given his mental state, he should have a break from you.”

“Still a better deal than Michael gave me, which was to drown me moment by moment for the entire time I was his vessel.” Dean shuddered.

Castiel made a noise that meant he was sorry for the pain Dean had experienced. “Jimmy says Michael was the biggest dick of them all, because even after the example of Lucifer, he was so self-important he couldn’t understand he was now the bad guy; he was above all such mortal issues as good and evil.”

Dean almost chuckled. “Bad guys are all the fucking same - great outfits, long speeches, I kill ‘em.”

“There are certain timeless qualities to evil, it’s true,” Castiel agreed. “Good is – messier. More exigent. More forward-thinking, too.”

Dean felt himself being pulled back into sleep, after they stopped talking. Before he was completely under, he said, “I still hafta tell Sammy,” and Castiel said, sadly, “I know.”

 

The next morning was a little awkward. Cas went off somewhere on angelic business. Rowena was sitting at the breakfast table in a purple negligee, scarlet dressing gown and beaded and embroidered slippers that looked like they’d cost serious coin - not that he should care. Her hair was perfect. She closed the tome she was reading, but left it upright in the book holder.

“Good morning, Dean,” she said. “There’s coffee.”

“Yeah. So is this –” he waved, “Going to be a regular thing? Wore Sammy out, didja?”

“He’s running,” Rowena said. “As you well know,” she added. “He wouldn’t change his routine, and I wouldn’t want him to.”

“Got pet names for each other yet?” Dean asked.

Rowena blinked, a slow, sarcastic blink that said volumes.

“How’s Jimmy?” Rowena responded, which shut Dean up, briefly.

“Elsewhere,” Dean said, when he recovered. “As you well know,” he said.

“They’ve consulted me about tricking Heaven,” Rowena said, and calmly sipped tea.

“Why am I not surprised,” Dean said. Breakfast at the bunker, talking about what happens when you die as if it’s any other fucking day at work. “Any comments for the stupid humans involved?”

Rowena frowned. It was an expression she rarely wore, since she preferred to look either smug or superior, either expression being less likely to cause wrinkles.

“Dean, Jimmy’s research into the process is valuable in and of itself,” she said gently. “Being able to get all or part of an ally into Heaven, possibly for intel, possibly to defend it, without having to do all the research at the last minute, as you four so frequently have necessitated,” and the emphasis on ‘so frequently’,” was a deliberate slap, “could make the difference between the end of the world and its preservation.”

“If you hurt Sam I’ll shoot you myself,” Dean said conversationally.

Rowena flinched, which Dean really hadn’t been expecting, since she was such a tough little cookie. “It’s been taken care of,” Rowena said.

“Oh yeah? How’s that supposed to work.”

“I’ve ensorceled myself so that I cannot hurt Sam unless it’s to save his life.”

“For real? You can do that?”

“It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t free, but yes.”

“Sammy knows about it?” 

“He will now, I imagine,” Rowena said, and rolled her eyes at her own stupidity for having confided in Dean. 

Dean stared her down. Her voice softened. “It occurred to me that you would be angry. Perhaps it’s not enough to mollify you, but I can’t hurt him even by accident, physically, or with spells, or any manner or sort of magic. Emotionally, alas, I have no control over; I can’t always foresee what might upset him.”

“Yeah, well, our Samantha has his moments,” Dean said. He was mollified. “When did you do it?”

“After our first night together. Dean, I know myself too well. I don’t want to hurt him, and it isn’t just because I’m fond of the dear lad, it’s because he’s the world’s best hunter –”

“Hey!” Dean said.

“ – and you and I and the whole world depend upon him.”

There was a pause. Dean couldn’t argue the point, having seen Sam in a leadership role,, and Rowena, who could be colder than a well-digger’s ass in January (in the northern hemisphere, as Castiel would inevitably point out), had tears in her eyes.

“You made out with Gabriel,” Dean complained. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he could have kicked himself for sounding so high school. For all he knew Gabriel had tricked her into it, it would be just like him. He didn’t expect a serious answer, and was amazed when she smiled, a small, embarrassed smile, in response to his outburst.

Her voice was soft and serious. “To make Sam jealous. It didn’t work, of course. And now Gabe’s dead and in the Empty, just like your Cas.” Dean’s mouth twisted, and he looked away. In that same soft voice, she said, “Don’t be angry with Sam, taking comfort where he can get it. He can bring himself to me, with his demon-haunted past, his time in Hell, his jealousy of you, that it was your need that brought your mother back, not his, all of those horrible things, and I will not turn away.”

“Shit.”

“He never told you.”

“We’re not supposed to have secrets,” Dean said, starting to wind himself up.

“He’s got abs, and you, my rude friend, do not. Do you want him to know exactly how jealous you are?”

Dean gaped. He growled, “Shut the hell up, witch!”

“Show me how, hunter!” Rowena said, and flashed her smug witchy smile. She fetched him more coffee while he glared at her, and poured it out with a more genuine smile.

“Jesus Christ, I’ve got a witch-in-law!” Dean mumbled at his coffee. Rowena sipped tea and returned her attention to the spellbook she’d been reading when Dean came in.

After a few minutes, Dean got over himself enough to rise and start breakfast. After consulting with Rowena, he doubled the size of the Instant Pot omelette with Jack cheese and red peppers done sous-vide style. If he was going to find his abs again he supposed he needed to start somewhere. And fuck Rowena, anyway.

Sam came into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed, and stopped like he’d barked his shins on something invisible.

“Good morning,” he said after an awkward pause.

“Yes it is, Sammy, even though we’ve got unexpected houseguests,” Dean said, thinking of Jimmy as well as Rowena. It pissed him off, it probably always would piss him off, that he’d learned of Jimmy’s existence, confirmed he was there voluntarily, and promptly forgotten about him until eighteen months later when all of a sudden he was declaring his love for him, in the middle of his bonding flight with someone else. It was as if his experience in allowing Michael in, just to be tortured for what seemed like centuries, had taught him nothing. Yeah, he’d be angry with himself about that one for as long as he drew breath, another fuckup to throw on the tire fire that was his conscience. “Breakfast in two; want me to toast a burrito or bread?”

“Wheat toast, please,” Sam said politely.

“For myself as well, Dean, if it’s no trouble,” Rowena said, with equal politeness.

Dean slapped whole wheat bread in the toaster and sat down again. The only way he was going to eat what he’d made was after he’d upended a bag of pre-cooked crumbled bacon on it, but in the end, it was tasty enough that he didn’t have to. It was probably the first time Dean had eaten the same breakfast as his brother - voluntarily - since he’d collected him from Stanford.

To his amazement, Rowena cleared up and started on the dishes. 

“You always going to do the dishes?” Dean asked hopefully.

“I don’t cook,” Rowena said.

Sam’s lips twitched.

“What?” Dean demanded.

“She uses magic to get takeout from her favorite places,” Sam said.

“I didn’t hear you complain,” Rowena said, putting a cup down a little hard, but she didn’t turn around. “You’ll recollect I paid for it.”

“Best tempeh goreng I ever had,” Sam said, reminiscent. “I didn’t mind.” To Dean’s astonishment and dismay, Sam got up, pushed aside Rowena’s gorgeous hair, kissed the side of her neck, and reached for a tea towel. She turned to give him a radiant smile.

Dean, his feet given wings by their domestic display, fled to Baby, the only being in the entire place who hadn’t ever turned into a demon and/or actively tried to kill him, although he supposed Jimmy got a hall pass. She needed an oil change, and getting doused in dirty oil would be better than the lovey-dovey crap going down in the kitchen right now. He turned the music up loud and after two hours, got his emotional feet under him again.

Rowena, thank god, was gone when he came back into the bunker.

“So,” he said to his brother.

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“Did she tell you she magicked away her ability to hurt you?”

 

Sam looked surprised, and then thoughtful. “No, but I’m glad she did. She could turn me into a puff of greasy smoke if she wanted to, without even working up a sweat.”

“Why her, Sam? There’s gotta be somebody else.”

Sam exhaled, as if it was the stupidest question imaginable, and then, as Rowena had done, he collected himself until he could answer respectfully. 

“Who’ll accept me as I am, with how I have to live, coming home covered in monster blood, with all of my horrible past? With the hurt I’ve caused, the people I’ve killed, the mistakes I’ve made, the demon I was? Even among hunters, shit I’ve done in this universe may make me a larger than life hero, but nobody wants to get close to me, ‘cause women I love die. And women I sleep with die, too. Or they wanna get close, but for the wrong reasons. Rowena is the only woman in my life right now who can take care of herself to the extent that somebody close to me needs to be able to do. Also, Dean, don’t take this the wrong way, but she’s the rare woman who can put up with your horseshit,” Sam added with a straight face.

Dean scowled through most of this, but when Sam was done, after giving a Kermit glare, he grunted in acknowledgement. It made sense, but he hated it.

“What about Jody,” Dean said.

“You literally haven’t noticed that she and Donna are an item now,” Sam said carefully, “And that they’ve both pretty much given up on men?”

“Shit,” Dean said. “Oh,” he said, suddenly remembering the last time they all hung out together.

“Yeah. Was Rowena rude to you? Did she say anything objectionable?”

“Nah, not really,” Dean acknowledged. “I bet she’s a complete freak in the sheets,” he said.

“However she behaves, she’s discreet, and I plan on behaving exactly the same way,” Sam said, in his most adult voice. He raised his eyebrows at his brother. “So tell me about your Jimmy problem,” Sam said. 

“Fuck, Sam, how much time do we have?” It was embarrassing, but no secrets meant no secrets. “Can it wait until it’s beer o’clock?”

Sam’s long-suffering look was all the answer required. “Well, funny story – ” Dean began.

 

“So Jimmy’s got a crush on you and Castiel’s keeping him from speaking with you?”

“It’s hard to tell whether it’s Castiel’s idea or his,” Dean said. “But since my moral compass is on the fritz half the time, I got to ask you. If Jimmy and I bang, will you be mad?”

“Why would you want to hurt Jimmy like that?” Sam said, all sad puppy after a long and awkward pause.

“He offered!” Dean protested.

“And you acted all disgusted and pissed off about it and did my ears deceive me or did you cut short your honeymoon flight with Castiel because you were mad at Jimmy? Now you’re horny and dying of curiosity –” 

“Hey!” Dean objected.

“ – and thinking maybe you can make it work. How, exactly? If something goes wrong, Castiel may not be able to sneak into Heaven using this wacky plan of Jimmy’s, because Jimmy will quit working on it.”

“I want you to work on it, with Castiel’s help, and skip the Jimmy part. He’s got an express lane, toll-free, into Heaven – when he buys it. Unless he volunteers to get his soul burned off for some unforeseeable reason, he’s golden. It’s Castiel I’m worried about! But what if Castiel’s memories could get transferred into me before I die – and then be activated after I buy it? You know, eliminate the middle-Jimmy.”

Sam considered this. After a minute he said, “Well, we’ll have to talk to them. But please don’t try to trick Castiel and Jimmy into sex, just so you can have sex with Jimmy’s body, that you’ve gotten so fond of. I have eyes, Dean. Jimmy’s a person, even if he doesn’t always have agency, and you shouldn’t forget that.”

“I just thought – “ Dean said.

“No,” Sam simply. “Quit.thinking.about.it.”

Dean did not stop thinking about it. He did, however, quit talking about it.

 

Rowena dropped by a couple of times a month. Sometimes she showed up for a meal and some research, and not a booty call; no matter why she was there she was never anything but quiet and dignified - and fully dressed. Dean did not get to see that negligee again. He was so hard up for sexy times he was almost mad about that.

Castiel was more affectionate than usual. There was no kissing, but there was a lot of stroking and massage and snuggling in front of the TV. It dropped off after a while. Dean didn’t mind, he merely adjusted his expectations and continued to derive the benefits of sleeping in the same bed as Castiel.

About six weeks after their ‘bonding flight’, Dean woke in the middle of the night, sure that something was wrong. He heard the subdued shuffle of angel wings and said, “Castiel?”

“Um, no,” Jimmy said. “I’m really sorry.”

Dean decided to be relatively gentle. It wasn’t Jimmy’s fault that they’d had an interdimensional collision with a cursed container of grace, and that he’d tangled up his soul inside Castiel, somehow. “What’s up,” he said flatly.

Jimmy sounded like he was doing his best not to panic. “Castiel is not in this vessel at the moment. He left me in charge of it. I tried calling him back because I could feel you waking up and I thought you might speak to me. He should be back soon.”

“So let me get this straight. You’re Jimmy, and you show up here with wings, and fail to mention this while they’re filling the entire room?” Dean asked. The wings were the same colour they’d been when Castiel had managed to get them back where they belonged; pearlescent grey with one jet black thumb feather, a permanent legacy of his demonic freeloader, by the look of things. And Jimmy, for reasons that made no sense, could not see his own wings. Probably, Dean thought, because they weren’t his own wings.

“I don’t have wings. I mean, do I? I feel very strange. I feel like I’m going to fall over backward, like there’s something tugging me backward.”

“Well, there is, dipshit, you’ve got about a hundred pounds of wings on your back,” Dean said, abandoning any pretense at calm. “Lie on your stomach, right now.”

“Seriously? This vessel has wings?”

“How is it even possible that you can’t tell?” Dean said.

“That’s much better,” Jimmy said, into the pillow.

Dean started massaging the wings, convinced if anything would call Castiel back into his vessel, that would be it. As he pressed and fluffed and stroked, Jimmy said in alarm, “Are you touching the wings right now? I can feel me being pressed into the bed.”

“Yeah,” Dean said in a soothing voice. “Castiel likes it, and if you could feel these babies, you would too.”

Dean worked in silence for a few minutes.

“Oh,” Jimmy said. “I think I’m feeling something more than pressure,” Jimmy said, as Dean’s hands made the biggest wing follicles seep oil. “Oh, oh, that’s – Dean, I’m feeling this as very sensual,” and now he was obviously trying not to moan. 

Just from the way the wings moved, Dean knew Castiel was back in charge.

“Hey Hubs,” Dean said.

“Why did Jimmy bring my wings over?” Castiel asked. It was hard to tell how he felt about it, apart from surprised.

“I don’t think he knew what he was doing. You need to have another talk with him.” Dean kept stroking his wings.

“I think he’s having a nervous breakdown,” Castiel said, his voice muffled. “Talking with me won’t help. I just haven’t had a good working relationship with him since the collision.”

“Please let me talk to him again, then,” Dean said. “Since your peptalks don’t work.”

“I do not think that is advisable. His emotions with respect to you are sometimes overwhelming.”

Dean said, probably with not enough sarcasm to trigger Castiel’s detectors, “Fine, I’ll let him cry himself out.” 

Castiel said, with a very solemn face, “If you think it will work. I’ll be back in half an hour. I’m giving you two complete privacy.” The wings vanished. Castiel was gone.

“No!” Jimmy shouted.

“Siddown,” Dean said.

“Are the wings gone?” Jimmy said after a moment.

“Yeah, it’s just us.”

Jimmy looked around, and said, “I don’t feel him. He can’t hide from me, any more, it’s why he’s taken to leaving me in charge.” He slowly sat up. He wouldn’t make eye contact.

“I knew it. I can always tell if it’s you. You stop talking, because it gives you away, and you sweat more, because that’s what humans do.”

“So –”

“You’ve slept overnight three times in the last few weeks and you’ve watched TV with me four times. You even started to massage me once.”

“If you can tell the difference, there’s no point lying about it,” Jimmy said sadly. “I suppose you’ll want me to stop.”

“I don’t think you can stop sweating,” Dean said casually. “I s’pose you could try.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jimmy said. “I meant that you’d prefer Castiel.”

“Not always. Nowhere close to always.” 

“Oh,” Jimmy said faintly. He seemed too stunned to speak.

“I’ll make you a deal though,” Dean said, his voice smooth and persuasive. “It has to be your idea. If you want to do things, I mean.”

Jimmy swallowed. “You mean sexual things. Acts of a sexual nature,” he said. He took a deep breath.

“You mean fucking,” Dean said. “Or maybe you mean sucking. And kissing. And stroking. And coming all over each other.” Each word fell across Jimmy’s face and changed it. First there was shock, which shaded into anger, and then into longing. Finally Jimmy stepped forward and said, “No.”

“You’re angry with me, I get it.” Dean 

“Having sex with you would make getting back in my proper place in Castiel’s head a lot harder.”

“Maybe you’d feel so much better you’ll be strong enough to deal with that,” Dean said.

“Why. Why do you want to have sex with me? I’m Jimmy. I’m not who you want.”

“I like you,” Dean said.

“You hate me, I ruined your flight,” Jimmy said. “Castiel has never been that angry with me before! In my defence, I couldn’t see and didn’t know that was what was going on,” he added. “So, I don’t believe you like me. You like this vessel, not me.”

“I thought about being Michael’s vessel, and believe me, it’s fucked up even when it’s voluntary.”

“If we don’t do something soon, Castiel and I are going to dissolve into each other. He won’t go to the Empty and I won’t go to Heaven. We’ll either end up in Hell or Purgatory, and either way it’s not right, especially not for Castiel, who fought so hard to get to you.” Jimmy fell silent.

Dean’s heart was hammering so loud he thought it must be audible to Jimmy. Castiel couldn’t go to Hell. It was impossible, undeserved, wrong.

“Then we should definitely have sex. Something so human will pull all the scattered pieces together, I bet.”

“Dean, Castiel and Sam both warned me.”

“You’ve spoken to Sam?” Dean asked. He remembered he’d mentioned wanting to.

“He says you’re likely to take advantage of me.”

“Your choice.” Dean looked at his watch. “He’s back in twenty-five minutes.”

 

Castiel came back. He always stood straighter, schooled Jimmy’s face into sterner lines.

“Where’s Jimmy?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“Oh, he’s still in there,” Dean said.

“What did you do to him?” Castiel was low key freaking out. “I can’t – he’s locked away again, as he was before the accident!”

“We jerked each other off, not that it’s really your business when it’s not your body,” Dean said. “And we wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t decided to angel marry me without telling me that Jimmy gets to drive the bus a couple of times a week.”

Castiel reached out with his grace. He felt around in Dean’s ribs for a while, which was very warm and tingly, and especially nice for Dean after that brief, ridiculously clumsy and extremely hot sex, and then pulled his hand out, confused still, but calmer.

“My grace implant is intact.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I left a – thumbprint, you might say – as a token of our flight, and if your affections were elsewhere, it would be gone.”

“Castiel, I could fuck half the US of A and it wouldn’t affect how I feel about you.”

The angel made his classic frowny face, and Dean felt his heart ping. “Perhaps I believe that now. You’re sure that having sex with Jimmy won’t affect our bond?” Aw look at him, an Angel of the Lord needing reassurance like that.

“No, I don’t think it will. And even if I get to really like Jimmy, you’re the one I’m s’posed to spend eternity with, if we can just figure out how to do that.”

“Do you want to sleep with Jimmy every night?” Castiel asked, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“No, Castiel.”

Castiel closed his eyes, frowning hard. “Jimmy says thank you. He’s – stronger in voice but smaller in size – if you follow me.”

“I think I do. I thought maybe sex, something to anchor him back in his body, would help him set boundaries with you - you know, so you could get along better until we fix our Heaven problem.”

“This vessel feels different.” Unselfconsciously, Castiel put a hand over one nipple and rubbed it.

“I bet it does,” Dean laughed. He held Castiel close and chuckled softly in his ear. “We should probably work out a schedule.”

**Author's Note:**

> This one won't let me go yet! hope you enjoy this followup.


End file.
